


Between Us

by zombieutopia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Canon-typical alcohol abuse, Dub con/non-con, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Hurt Dean, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV Dean Winchester, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sam Winchester Gives Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, Smut and Fluff, Soulless Sam Winchester, Supernatural Season 6, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform, bottom!Dean, non-con elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombieutopia/pseuds/zombieutopia
Summary: This is the original draft of the first story in the "The Stories We Keep" series. I've kept this up (instead of replacing it) for those of you that enjoyed this first, softer version.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Supernatural and all of its charcters, names, and storylines belong to the creators. I use dialogue taken directly from the episodes: "You Cant Handle the Truth" and "All Dogs Go To Heaven". This dialogue is not mine.

Dean closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face, the blue glow of the laptop still glaring through his closed lids. He sighed and let his hand drop heavily onto the chipped table. Clearing his throat, he tried to focus on the coroner’s report before him.

_“The minute he walked through that door, I knew. It was over.”_

Dean inhaled sharply. Picking up the closest beer bottle, he went to take a swig only to find it empty.  
“Shit.” He muttered under his breath, tossing it aside, and snatching up the half full bottle of rotgut he found behind the stash of empty bottles that littered the table. He took a long sip before pouring a generous amount into a semi-clean glass next to the computer and thunked it back down on the table, now mostly empty, just as the familiar burn hit his stomach.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at the screen, he gave in and admitted that research wasn't gonna happen. He snapped the lid shut and sat in the dark room with nothing but the hum of the air conditioner to break the silence.

_“You two have the most unhealthy, tangled up, crazy thing I’ve ever seen…”_

He took another mouthful hoping the alcohol would burn away the lump in his throat. It had been weeks since he had spoken to Lisa and she had finally ended it. He couldn't blame her. It was for the best and he knew it. It's why - no matter how many times he sat there staring at her name in his phone - he could never make himself hit the button. He had found himself a few times trying to believe that it had just been Veritas’s curse that made her say it was over but he couldn’t deny the fact that the curse had only forced her to tell him the truth. Things were better this way. What, with Cas confirming his suspicions that something had been wrong - was wrong - with Sam. That he came back from the cage without his soul. His life didn’t allow for relationships like he had wanted with Lisa. He had said so to Veritas himself.

And Sam….Sam had even gone so far as to state that they were barely even brothers now.

 _“So. I was thinking.” Sam switched topics abruptly, heaving an awkward sigh. “You were right.” Dean felt himself tense._  
_“About?”_  
_“I'm not your brother. I'm not...Sam.” Dean’s expression instantly darkened. Sam’s tone was light and casual and twisted Dean’s insides with apprehension. The knot in his stomach that he’d been carrying since Sam had returned from the cage, the uneasy knot that only got worse when Cas had ‘diagnosed’ him, hardened into a pit. He wasn’t sure where Sam was going with this and, while cautiously curious, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it._  
_“Okay.” Dean said flatly after a long pause._  
_“Um...All that blah-blah-blah- about being the old me? Crap.” Sam’s blunt tone was like a slap. Delivering the exact point he was trying to make with ease. “Like Lisa and Ben, right? I've been acting like I care about them. But I don't. I couldn't care less.” Dean pulled back a little, taking a steadying breath and breaking eye contact in an attempt to hold back his rising anger. He had already beaten his brother bloody once recently and was desperately trying to prevent doing so a second time._  
_“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” He asked, the pit in his stomach growing. It's one thing to suspect something like this, it was another to hear it said. Especially from Sam. Especially in such a way._  
_“You wanted the real me, this is it. I don't care about them. I don't even really care about you,” Dean’s gaze shot back to his brother, pained surprise seeping through the anger. “except that I need your help. And you're clearly not gonna stick around for much longer unless I give it to you straight, so...I've done a lot worse than you know. I've killed innocent people in the line of duty, but I'm pretty sure it's not something the old me could have done. And maybe I should feel guilty, but I don't.”_

The memory echoed in Dean’s head renewing the lost, hurt, angry fire burning in his stomach fueled on by the liquor. No matter what he said, Sam was his brother and now he had to, yet again, save him. Make it better...somehow. But all he wanted to do in this moment was run home to Lisa and get drunk. Or wake up to find Sam back to how he should be so they could get back to their own weird, skewed version of normal. Neither was an option but he could drink.

A hand abruptly landed on his shoulder making him jump.  
“Hey. You... okay?” Dean looked up at the giant shadow standing right behind him.  
“Jesus Sam!” Dean growled at the surprise. “When did you get back?”  
“Uh...just now, Dean, you didn’t hear me open the door?” Sam asked, flipping on the light switch. The yellow light buzzed overhead, illuminating the craptastic motel room with its stained bedspreads and crusty kitchenette. Dean blinked against the harsh light.  
“Must've missed it.” He mumbled as he watched Sam throw a new supply of beer and miscellaneous food bits into the mini-fridge.  
“Okay. So. Made any headway on the case? We any closer to figuring out who it is?” Sam asked. Dean stared at his brother for a good long minute before swallowing another mouthful. They had just rolled into town. Just barely long enough to grab a room, pull up info for the case on the laptop, and for Sam to go on a supply run.   
“No, Sammy, not a clue.” Dean downed the last of the whisky in his glass and stood up from the chair, stretching a bit as he did. He hit the button on the front of his phone. 2:13am glowed up at him. Groaning audibly, he peeled off his shirt as he shuffled over to one of the two beds and collapsed diagonally across it.  
“Dude...how much have you had to drink?” Sam asked, mild dry amusement seeping into his voice. Dean cracked an eyelid to look up at his overgrown, soulless brother who was leaning up against the counter with arms folded.  
“Not nearly enough.” Dean answered into the pillow before closing his eye again.  
“Uh, okay.” Slight scoff. “Right. Well, I’m going to go take a shower.” Sam stated before flipping the light off again and heading into the bathroom. The light from the cracked bathroom door fell directly on Dean’s face.

He was exhausted but he wasn’t sure he could sleep. He laid there for a while with his head spinning, listening to Sam shuffle around the bathroom; water turning on, curtain rustling, the worn plastic of the tub groaning under Sam’s weight. Eventually he slowly dozed off.

***

Lisa trailed her fingertips from the nape of his neck down his spine, exploring his ribs and back dimples along the way before her hand came to rest on his left hip. Dean made a little appreciative moan in his half-sleep and turned onto his side, allowing her room to wrap her arm around him like she always did. She hesitated for just a second, fingers stalling on his hip, before her warm hand continued its movement along the edge of his jeans and came to rest on his low stomach. He happily sighed and started to let himself drift back down into sleep when she ran a finger slowly, teasingly just under the waistband of his underwear.

The slight movement sent lazy shocks of arousal through his stomach that ended up making his bits twitch against their confinement. He could feel her warm body close behind him on the bed and smell the chemically harsh motel soap on her skin. A pang of loss hit him, he missed smelling the oatmeal-lavender soap she had loved to use. That smell had subtly clung to everything she came in contact with, making everything he owned smell of her.

His eyebrows furrowed in sleepy, hazy confusion.

Motel soap.

Motel.

Dean’s eyes flew open to find himself lying on his side on the saggy motel bed with a dude’s hand - Sam’s hand - roaming across the exposed flesh of his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains references to underage sexuality and masturbation. You've been warned.
> 
> This chapter contains dialogue from season 1 episode 16 "Shadow". This dialogue is not mine and belongs to the creators of Supernatural.

Dean yanked away from Sam, off the small double bed, and promptly remembered just how dizzy he was as he crashed to the floor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before pulling himself back to his feet.  
“Damn it! What the hell, man?” Dean growled out, bracing himself against a wall. When Sam didn’t respond, Dean lifted his head and squinted at him in the semi-dark. The only light illuminating the room came streaming out from the half closed bathroom door and did more to hinder visibility than help it. Half a dozen potential explanations were rushing through his head, everything from demon to curse but all of them were instantly erased with a single look at his brother’s face.

Sam calmly pulled himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the bed’s headboard, as he watched Dean gather his balance. His eyes had that cold, calculating glint to them that Dean had noticed he wore whenever Sam didn’t realize he was looking. A small, knowing smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth. It was the same expression Dean vividly remembered seeing on his brother’s face just as that vamp had grabbed and turned him. The look was predatory and scheming. Seeing that same look here, now, made his stomach flip. This wasn’t some demon riding his brother’s meatsuit and getting up to mischief. This was just his brother. Without his soul.

Sam lifted the towel from around his waist and let it drop to the floor. Despite himself, Dean found his eyes travelling down the length of Sam’s torso to his half hard cock. He threw up a hand and turned his head, blocking Sam from view.  
“Woah! Woah, hey…now, come on!” He heard Sam huff a chuckle under his breath.  
“You know, Dean, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen me like this.” Sam stated matter-of-fact.  
“I’m sorry, what?” Dean shook his head trying to understand exactly what brand of crazy was happening here.  
“Naked...” Was all Sam got out before Dean’s brain rushed in to fix the situation.  
“Well, yeah. But... I mean...when we were kids, sure…. a few times on hunts when something crazy happened…and, I mean, you live in one room motels long enough with another dude...a bathroom door is bound to accidentally get left open once or twice.” Dean took a quick breath. “But...this? This….” Dean gestured with his outstretched hand towards Sam while he kept his head turned.  
“Really, Dean? Same brain, remember? Same memories…” His voice trailed off, echoing his own words from a previous discussion.

Dean froze as his heart rate doubled. Sam and Dean had always been close, far closer than normal siblings. Growing up hunters hadn’t exactly encouraged healthy relationships - familial included. Images involuntarily flashed through Dean’s mind like a slide show.

_Dean and Sam curled up together for comfort as young kids in a small, dingy motel room bed while their father was away._

_Sam leaning against Dean as they watched a movie as teenagers, listening to their Dad drunk snore on the bed behind them. Dean slowly trailing his fingertips up and down his brother’s arm and back absentmindedly._

_Sam walking in on Dean masturbating in the shower one day when Sam was a young teen, eyes gliding over Dean as he lingered just a bit longer than he should have._

_Dean returning the favor a week later._

Dean’s stomach churned as some of the more damning memories crept into his mind despite his attempt to stop them.

_Dean lying on his stomach in bed, head propped up on a pillow pretending to sleep as he stealthily watched his seventeen year old brother touch himself in his bed a few feet away. Slowly palming his own aching erection that was squished between his hand and the lumpy mattress as he watched. As Sam’s orgasm crested his lean, muscled frame spasmed below the thin blankets and he turned his head into his pillow to muffle his gasps and heavy breathing. Dean watched his brother ride out the pleasure; Sam’s hand still firmly gripping his cock, stomach muscles clenching spasmodically, skin mildly slick with sweat before he slowly stilled into the languid aftermath. Sam laid there in the quiet as his breathing returned to normal and his body stopped jerking with post-orgasmic shocks of pleasure, when he slowly opened his eyes and unexpectedly met Dean’s gaze. They watched each other for several minutes in silence before Dean slowly, very slowly - allowing plenty of time for Sam to break eye contact and turn away - moved over onto his back, pulling his blankets off as he did. Without looking away from his little brother, he reached a hand into his boxers and pulled out his engorged cock. Sam didn’t blink. His gaze remained intent, loving, and blissed out as he looked down over Dean’s bared skin before returning to look into Dean’s eyes._

They had never touched. Not like that. They had never actually done anything at all. But there were years worth of moments in time, memories of when their relationship had blurred past the normal boundaries of how brothers were supposed to interact with one another. They never spoke of it. Not to other people. Not to each other. Their father had known, they were fairly certain about that, but John had never said anything either. He had seemed perfectly content to ignore it and let things be as they were while he focused on more important matters.

Dean barely even acknowledged it to himself and there hadn’t been a need to. Sam had left for Stanford and near everything had stopped since then. There had been once or twice since Sammy had come back that Dean had carefully, cautiously broached the subject. Always making sure to keep things vague. Easily defendable. Each time the subject had been brushed off.

 _“But there’s gotta be somethin that you want for yourself.” Sam insisted earnestly. Dean looked at his brother. Anger, and just a bit of sadness, bubbled up._  
_“Yeah I don't want you to leave the second this thing is over, Sam!”_  
_“Dude...What's your problem?” Dean steadied himself against the nearest piece of furniture, hands clenched around the wood. Anxiety made him hesitate but he couldn’t_ not _try. A dry, mirthless laugh escaped him._  
_“Why do you think I drag you everywhere, huh? Why do you think I came and got you from Stanford in the first place?”_  
_“Cause Dad was in trouble. Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed mom.” Sam stated, his tone making it sound like the answer was obvious. Like it was the only answer. Keeping things on track._  
_“Yes that ...but it's more than that, man. You and me...and dad. I want us.” Dean drew a deep breath. “I want us to be together again.” Dean paused and looked at his brother pleadingly. “I want us to be a family again.”_  
_“Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before.”_  
_“Could be.”_  
_“I don't want them to be.”_

So, Dean was happy to overcompensate by sleeping with any waitress that looked his way, making the occasional gay joke, and denying loudly anything that came close to the truth - even when alone. It was the way things needed to be.

Dean dropped his hand in what seemed like defeat and turned to face his brother.  
“Yeah. Okay, fine. I remember. Why are you doing this Sam?” He asked quietly.  
"You were whimpering in your sleep, Dean. You rarely admit it but you are obviously having a hard time dealing... and you need something to help get your mind off things for a while." A brief, sarcastic thought fluttered through Dean’s mind, cursing himself for trying to teach his sociopathic, terminator of a brother anything about empathy...before he refocused on the conversation at hand.  
"Yeah, Sam. That's what bars are for. A good amount of alcohol and finding a hot waitress to take my mind off things."  
"Sure...but you aren't going to do that are you?" Sam asked pointedly and let the silence stretch between them in answer. Dean didn't want to do that. Wasn't ready for that kind of meaningless transaction. Not after what he had had with Lisa. Almost had.  
"Why do you care, Sam? You've made it pretty damn obvious that you couldn't care less about much of anything but hunting these days, me included. So that can't be your real reason for...this." Dean bit back, clenching his jaw around the words and trying to keep his eyes level with his brother's.  
"Well, you haven't exactly been letting me go out on my own much. I'm gone for more than five minutes and you call to check in. We're always together."  
"Can ya blame me, Sam? You don't have a clue about what's right and what's wrong these days." Dean gestured between the two of them flippantly.

  
Sam got up from the bed in one swift movement and walked rapidly towards Dean. He looked around the dark motel room, a slight panic filling his veins and urging him to find something to defend himself with. He couldn’t prevent taking in the full sight of Sam’s naked muscular body, still damp from the shower, advancing towards him as he backed away. His back hit the wall just as Sam closed the distance and put an arm out, palm resting against the wall just over Dean’s right shoulder effectively blocking any escape. Their faces were only inches apart as Sam leaned in and near whispered:  
“Then what am I supposed to do Dean?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> No beta. Sorry for the mistakes.


	3. Chapter 3

He didn’t answer. Sam hadn’t meant it as a question. They locked eyes for a few seconds before Sam moved his hand and placed it against the side of Dean’s neck, slowly running his thumb along the angle of his jaw. Dean jumped slightly at the contact, resisting the urge rising in his chest to push Sam off of him, to fight back. Instead he waited and looked into Sam’s strangely cold gaze.

Sam’s grip hardened as he slowly pulled Dean’s head forward towards his own. The initial kiss was surprisingly gentle. Nothing more than a light brush of Sam’s lips closing against his upper lip. The slight sensation sent a flush of heat through Dean’s entire body and Dean plastered his hands flat against the wall next to him, resisting any urge to move them. The kiss only lasted a mere second before Sam pulled away just enough to break contact and let their breath mingle. Sam’s breathing was steady and regular, Dean’s was ragged and uneven.

The longer the pause lasted the more aware Dean became of their contact; Sam’s rough hands gripping his neck and left hip, the heat rolling off of his brother’s body in direct contrast to the cold wall against his back and hands, their foreheads nearly touching, lips barely parted. He couldn’t help but wonder at the pause. Wonder if Sam was rethinking this decision. If some small part of his soul, or at least the memory of his soul, was fighting back and making him hesitate. As if reading his mind Sam looked at Dean seriously.  
“Look...I want you willing. I’m not interested in hurting you. I could, but there wouldn’t be much of a point. If you were seriously against this I could just go somewhere else. But I know you want this. This way we both get what we want.” Sam said in a low voice. The urge to argue the statement welled up in Dean again, the ingrained deep-seated need to deny it made his stomach twist and his head spin, but Sam didn’t give him a chance.

Before Dean could react Sam’s lips had found his again, this time in a forceful passionate kiss that sucked the breath from his lungs. His senses were saturated with his brother; the musky scent of Sam’s sweat, the sweet taste of his lips that were tinged with a hint of toothpaste, Sam’s clean shaven face rubbing against his own stubble, fingers biting into the flesh of his hip, all of it overwhelmed his racing mind as Sam’s tongue explored and devoured his own. He found himself slowly relaxing under Sam’s grip. Slowly leaning into the kiss and returning it, hesitant at first but steadily with more and more urgency.

Electric shocks of heady pleasure shot through him in waves as they kissed. A part of Dean’s mind relented, finally accepting - for this brief moment - that he really did want this. Had always wanted this. Sam’s tongue delved deeper into his mouth, demanding dominance, and Dean let him, relishing in the feel of their tongues wrestling as Sam’s hands roamed his skin.

Dean’s cock flushed and throbbed in his jeans, the arousal that had begun in his sleep now fully taking hold but Dean kept his hands firmly pressed against the wall as he kissed his brother, unable to will himself to give in entirely. Sam - the real Sam - wouldn’t want this. Would he?

Without breaking the kiss that was beginning to make Dean lightheaded, aiding more to his dizziness now than the alcohol, Sam reached down to undo Dean’s jeans. His breathing hitched as Sam slowly tugged the cloth over the button, his fingertips gliding over Dean’s skin as he did, then pulled the zipper down. Sam released the jeans and let them fall to the floor, pooling around Dean’s feet, and brushed his hand over Dean’s hard cock through his boxers. An involuntary, needy sound that was half moan, half whimper escaped Dean’s throat as Sam continued to kiss and stroke him through the thin cloth.

Sam playfully bit his lower lip when it trembled and moved his kiss to Dean’s neck, allowing him to gasp a much needed breath. Sam trailed licks and sloppy kisses slowly across Dean’s collarbone down to his left nipple, giving the little knob of flesh a sharp nip before sinking to his knees slowly, sliding his tongue along Dean’s happy trail until his mouth met the edge of his boxers. Dean groaned loudly as his skin crawled with goosebumps at the attention. He knotted his hands into fists against the wall as Sam slid his hands up Dean’s legs under his boxers and grabbed them from the inside, slowly sliding Dean’s last remaining piece of clothing down over his slim hips. The waist band caught on his now prominent erection on the way down and Dean’s body jerked at the sudden stimulation. Sam tapped his leg almost impatiently, signaling Dean to step out of his clothes. He lifted his legs, one after the other, and let Sam pull them out of the way and cast them aside.

Dean had never felt more exposed, more vulnerable, the he did now; standing naked before his kneeling brother. Sam looked up at him as he ran his hands slowly up Dean's legs, caressing his way up towards his hips. Dean watched with a sort stunned fascination, something akin to panic eating its way through his stomach as he watched one of Sam’s hands roam past his hip and twist around to hold onto his ass...while the other hand took a firm hold on the base of his cock.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean thunked his head against the wall, eyes rolling back into his head, as Sam moved his hand over the length of his cock at an excruciatingly slow pace. The movement was slow enough that it didn’t push him towards orgasm, only heightened his sensitivity. The need building in his core. Dean’s stomach muscles clenched; urging him to push into Sam’s hand, to increase the pace, but Sam kept him solidly pressed against the wall to prevent just that. After several minutes Dean was shaking, nearly writhing under his brother’s attention. Dean panted and groaned, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, teeth gritted against the rising urge to beg - demand - more from Sam. He closed his eyes and tried to focused on just breathing.

Then Sam stopped. His hand remained firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, unmoving, resting against his pubic bone. Dean didn’t move, just waited and continued to breathe. But nothing happened.

Getting almost frustrated, and just a bit self-conscious, Dean opened his eyes and looked down at his brother. Sam was sitting back on his heels staring up at him with a small smirk on his face. As soon as he met Dean’s questioning look - made sure he was watching - he leaned forward, face no more than an inch away from the head of Dean’s cock, and parted his lips. Dean felt his heart jump into his throat.  
“Oh fu...N-uuuh!” Dean gasped, head falling back to face the ceiling and eyes widening, as Sam’s lips wrapped around him. Sam wasted no time with any further teasing. Tongue strongly pushed up flat along the underside of his cock, he slid his mouth down the length of Dean’s shaft before hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard as he pulled back off. Each bob of Sam’s head drew him in deeper until Dean could feel himself hit the back of his throat with force.

Dean shook with the overpowering pleasure of it. He dug his fingernails into the wallpaper as he fought against the need to thrust into his brother’s mouth. He looked back down and felt the pressure building up in his stomach tighten. Sam’s hand worked in tandem with his mouth, both slicked with spit and precum as they moved across his flesh. Sam’s nose briefly nuzzled into his pubic hair as he swallowed Dean down again and again. Dean’s cock throbbed and Sam moaned against him. The sound was enough to threaten Dean’s self control and his self-imposed limits. He was mid-thrust when he caught himself but not before he had pushed far enough to cause Sam’s throat to clamp down hard around his cock as he gagged, throat muscles swallowing around him before Dean could force himself to stop the movement. He wasn’t going to go any further than Sam initiated. Couldn’t…

Sam huffed out what almost seemed like an annoyed sigh through his nose while his tongue still swirled around Dean’s sensitive head. The hand that had been gripping his ass momentarily disappeared only to reappear as it wrapped around his left wrist and brought Dean’s hand forward and placed it on the back of Sam’s head. His hand returned to Dean’s ass just as he suddenly pulled his hips forcefully towards his face, ramming Dean’s cock deeper into his throat.  
“Oh fuck!” Dean hissed, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. Sam pulled off of him to gasp a breath before repeating the action, this time Dean’s body obeyed the command in spite of his mind. His hips jerked forward as his hand pushed. Sam gagged again but instead of pulling off for a momentary break, he moved into the next thrust.

Dean felt the coiled pressure in his groin tighten and the unmistakeable spread of heat in the pit of his stomach.  
“Oh...fuck, Sammy! I’m gonna…” Was all he could stutter out before he came. His legs trembled under him, barely holding him up as his body was wracked with orgasmic spasms. Sam continued to suck him off mercilessly until the last spurts of cum shot down his throat and the spasms faded before he pulled away.

Dean opened his eyes to see Sam wiping off the remnants of spit and cum from his face as he got to his feet. Dean had just started to slide down the wall when his brother caught his arm.  
“Oh, no. I’m not done with you yet.” Sam hauled him to his feet again and pulled him over to the rumpled bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! Next one will be longer, promise. :)
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is smut, smut, and even more smut. There is a very tiny, itty bitty little bit of something that resembles plot deep in the background....but this chapter is essentially just porn.
> 
> I'm sorry and you're welcome. 
> 
> I know this is super rough. I will be editing and refining it as I go along (as I do with all my chapters). Hope its readable and enjoyable!

Sam led him over to the bed and released his arm, letting Dean collapse face down onto it with a satisfied groan. Sam’s words only fully registered in his hazy brain when he felt Sam plant a knee onto the mattress next to him. The springs of the bed groaned under the additional weight as Sam crawled onto all fours over Dean’s prone body. The only actual contact between them was Sam’s legs pushed up against him on either side of his hips but it put Dean on edge nonetheless, his body tensing as if ready to resist.  
“Uh...wha…” But before Dean could choke out the question, Sam planted a fevered kiss between his shoulderblades and moved a hand down to his low back, pushing him firmly into the bed. Sam trailed kisses along his spine, slow and intimate until they reached the swell of Dean’s ass.

He tried to push himself up off the bed only to have Sam roughly push him down again. Heat flared throughout his body at every point of contact with Sam, his cock throbbing with arousal at every touch. A tiny flutter of anxiety made his stomach uneasy as he laid there on the bed, once again finding himself uncertain, wondering how far this was going to go and how far he was willing to let it.

Just as Sam planted an almost chaste kiss at the very edge of his tailbone, Dean felt Sam’s hands slide up over his ass and spread him open. There was just the slightest trickle of air against his ass in warning before Sam’s mouth descended. Dean had seen it done in porn more times then he could count, and had even done it himself on the rare occasion he found a chick that was up for it, but it was another thing entirely to be on the receiving end. He shoved his face into the blanket under him, gasping warm lungfuls of air, as his brother firmly ran a flat tongue over the sensitive skin. The alternating wet heat from Sam’s mouth running across his ass and the following cold at its loss was maddening.

Sam’s hands kneaded him as he lapped at Dean’s ass until he was shuddering puddle under him, cursing and moaning, for the second time. Dean felt his erection returning and started mindlessly rolling his hips into the bed to increase sensation. Sam seemed to quickly lose patience with Dean’s writhing, digging his fingers into the meat of his hips and pinned him down while Sam simultaneously pressed his face firmly against his ass, the pointed edge of his tongue teasing open the tight ring of muscles there. There was just a moment's pause before Dean felt him thrust his chin forward, sliding his tongue inside him. Dean gasped and his back bowed, inadvertently pushing himself further into Sam’s mouth.

Dean had just grown accustomed to the erotic feel of having his asshole tongued when Sam pulled away entirely. Dean groaned, damn near whined, at his absence but his brother was back in a second, sliding back up along Dean just barely touching him yet so close. Dean could feel the tickle of Sam’s long hair moving up his back, the drag of his erect nipples across his skin, as Sam returned to his previous position straddling his hips. Sam kissed the side of Dean’s neck and ground his pelvis forward, sliding the length of his shaft along the slick cleft of Dean’s ass. Dean moaned and craned his head over his shoulder to look at Sam. Sam met him halfway with another kiss that now tasted salty and bitter and cloyingly musky, as he continued to slowly rock his hips against him. Dean pushed back, pressing his ass up to meet Sam in time with his thrusts. Shifting his weight atop Dean, he reached a hand down between them and moved the head of his cock teasingly along Dean’s increasingly slick entrance.

The thought - the realization - hit him that he was not only writhing in pleasure as another guy pinned him down while tonguing and sliding his cock against his ass, but that the guy doing these things to him was, in fact, his little brother. The thought renewed the near queasy feeling in his stomach. Yeah, Sam said he wanted this. Hell, he was the one controlling this encounter but was it actually Sam? Really? The part of Dean that wanted to be, and always would be, the big brother that harbored the need to protect Sammy flared back to life. Shame and guilt and just a touch of disgust flooded through him, turning the queasy feeling into a hard pit in his stomach. But before he could act on it, say anything, Sam slid a single finger inside him in one firm thrust.

Dean gasped. Pleasure, and a little spike of pain, shot through his core. Straight from Sam’s finger to his groin. Sam gave him just a moment to adjust, sitting up onto his knees. He could feel Sam’s ass resting against his calves. Could feel him stroking himself, feel his balls dragging across his thighs, as he began moving his finger in and out of Dean’s ass. He closed his eyes, drawing a sharp breath in through his nose, and tried to work up the willpower to say something.

Sam’s finger delved deeper and deeper until he could feel the knuckles of Sam’s fist pounding against his sit bones. Dean opened his mouth to tell Sam to stop, to get off of him before they did anything that Sam- that they both - may regret once he had his soul back. He opened his mouth to tell Sam he couldn't do this with him when he was like this but instead all that came out was needy moan as Sam slid another finger into him. And this time Sam didn't give him time to adjust, he instead immediately began thrusting with fervor until the only thing Dean could possibly focus on was Sam’s fingers in him and the need for more contact.

It was then Sam pulled away. Leaving Dean a quivering, sweaty, needy mess on the bed as he stood up. Sam lightly smacked Dean’s ankle when he didn’t move. Dean rolled over onto his back and gulped down a steadying breath before sitting up at the edge of the bed in front of him. Sam reached out and ran his fingers through Dean’s short hair before pulling his head forward. Dean only resisted for a split second before opening his mouth for his brother. He lifted a hesitant hand to assist but Sam smacked it away, instead holding Dean’s head still as he slowly pushed himself in and out of his mouth. Having never done anything like this before, Dean focused on just relaxing his throat and jaw, occasionally swirling his tongue down the length of his brother’s cock, as Sam used his mouth.

With a groan that suggested he was loathe to do so, Sam pulled himself away, his cock slipping out of Dean’s mouth with a wet pop. Dean wiped his chin with the back of his hand and swallowed against the salty taste in the back of his throat. Looking up at his brother towering above him, Dean felt a spread of warmth in his chest.

Sam leaned down and swept Dean’s lips up into another kiss as he pushed him back onto the bed. Dean reached up, running his hands through Sam’s ridiculously long hair, pulling him closer into the kiss. Dean was so wrapped up in tasting Sam with renewed fervor that he was surprised to find himself lying on his back with his legs wrapped around Sam’s waist.

Sam reached down between them and positioned his cock. Dean broke the kiss, heart rate skyrocketing again as worries and anxiety and self-deprecating thoughts flooded his head. Sam’s focused, intense gaze bore through him unwavering as he slowly pushed the head of his cock into and then past the tight ring of muscles. Dean gasped, nails raking across Sam’s back as his brother slowly slid himself inside, only stopping when Sam’s pubic bone met his ass. He paused there, sheathed to the hilt inside Dean, waiting for him to relax and stretch to comfortably accommodate. Dean shuddered against him, muscles rhythmically tightening around Sam’s large cock, intense pleasure pooling in his core.

Sam angled his head to kiss Dean again and trail strong kisses along his jawline as he slowly pulled himself out part way before burying himself again. Dean’s back arched at the movement.  
“Oh fu...mmm…” Dean moaned against Sam’s shoulder as Sam repeated the movement a little faster “Fuck.” Apparently deciding Dean was ready, Sam picked up the pace. Pulling himself out to the tip and pounding back in again and again. After just a moment Sam rose up onto his knees without breaking pace and spread Dean’s legs, giving him better access to push into him. One of Sam’s hands wrapped around Dean’s hip while the other groped his thigh, giving him the perfect ability to pull Dean onto his cock with increasing force.

Without much warning Sam pulled out. Dean gasped at the loss, out of breath and shaking. Sam grabbed Dean’s ankles and pulled him down to the edge of the bed before snagging his arm and yanking him to his feet. Sam gave him another quick rough kiss, almost as an afterthought as he walked him backwards across the room. The next thing Dean knew, Sam had flipped him around and bent him down over the counter in the kitchenette.

Sam rammed into him again, spreading Dean’s legs into a wider stance with his knees as he did. The new angle allowed for Sam’s cock to push across his prostate with each thrust. Dean moaned loudly and pushed back into Sam, meeting him thrust for thrust, increasing sensitivity for both. Sam bent forward, draping himself over Dean’s bent back and continued to push up into him and increasing the angle further.

The ache in his own cock too much to ignore any longer, Dean wiggled an arm between himself and the counter and stroked himself in time with Sam’s thrusts. A couple of strong strokes and he found himself teetering on the very edge of his second orgasm. The combination of Sam moving against his prostate and his accompanying strokes along his nearly over-sensitized cock was almost too much for his body to bare without coming apart. His legs shook under him as Sam, hands digging mercilessly into Dean’s hip bones, pushed into him harder.

Dean felt the muscles in his groin spasm just before his orgasm crashed down on him, breaking him apart. His heavy breathing transformed into clipped moans, fingers digging into the countertop, cum spurting over his fist and onto the worn brown carpet under their feet, legs barely managing to hold him up as his brother continued to fuck him.

Sam only lasted another couple of thrusts before his rhythm faltered and he went rigid behind Dean. He felt the throb of Sam’s cock inside him as warm cum filled his ass and slowly began to drip down his thighs. Sam continued to grind against him, riding out his own orgasm until the waves of pleasure faded, leaving them both pressed against each other, sweat drenched and out of breath.

After a moment Sam slipped out of Dean and stumbled back onto the bed, lying on his back with his hands pillowing his head. Dean stood up and followed Sam’s lead, collapsing onto the bed next to him in a heap.

Dean’s body was blessedly languid and wonderfully sore in various places. He found himself relaxing further as he caught his breath and his skin began to cool, cherishing the warmth of Sam’s body tucked up against his back, the continued bit of contact, the intimacy of it.

Just as Dean started to slowly drift, just moments after having laid down, he felt Sam move. Scooting over and rolling onto his back, wincing at the squish of fluid that rolled over his thighs, he looked over at Sam just as he pulled a shirt - Dean’s shirt - up off the floor and used it to clean himself up.  
“Seriously?!” Dean growled but his voice held none of its usual gruff edge. His question was met with a half amused look as Sam finished wiping himself down and tossed the shirt back onto the floor.  
“Whatever, Dean.” Sam said as he climbed out of the bed and began getting dressed. “I’m gonna go grab us some breakfast. You should start back up on the case while I’m gone. See if we can find anything useful.” Dean felt a weight settle over him. A hollowness that leeched away the endorphin high and left an ache in his stomach.  
“No, Sam. I’m getting some damn sleep. We’ll figure shit out in the morning.” Dean said as he tiredly sat up on the bed, wincing again at the wetness under him.  
“Right. Okay. I’ll grab some food and get started on the research till your up.” Sam said as he walked out. The door slamming shut behind him and leaving the stuffy motel room uncomfortably devoid of sound.

Dean sat staring at the closed door for several seconds before standing up and shuffling towards the bathroom. He hit the button on his phone on his way through. 4:42am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated if you like it!
> 
> Next chapter will be out soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little connector chapter....didn't quite fit in the last chapter but wouldn't quite fit in the next. So here it is on its own. :)

Dean slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, throwing the pathetic flip lock on the handle before turning the shower on full blast and cranking up the heat. He stood in the middle of the room, numbly staring off, until the water reached non-freezing temperatures. The water pressure was barely existent but he gratefully stood under it, letting the heat seep into his bones.

He tried to consciously relax the tension growing in his muscles but couldn’t manage it even a little bit. His stomach roiled and his head was starting to pound from his clenched jaw. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing in the steam and water droplets. His attention hyper focused in on the feel of the water hitting his chest, the initial splatter that almost felt like pin pricks followed by a gentle tickle as it flowed across his skin. As soon as his body grew deadened to the heat, he turned the knob again, sending a new rush of steam into the already sweltering room and flushing his skin a darker shade of red. He sniffed and squeezed his eyes closed tighter.

Taking a deep, halting breath he stood up straight again. Tilting his head back, he pushed his face up directly under the shower head letting hot water rush over his face and flow up his nose. After a few pounding heartbeats, he scrubbed both hands over his face and pulled away, shaking his head a little. With a blank, determined expression settling firmly over his features he picked up the small bar of soap and began scrubbing it over himself. Lathering up every inch of skin before stepping back under the water to wash it all away. He stood there until the water began to cool before turning it off and stepping out.

He half-heartedly toweled himself dry and paused before the closed door. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the lock in the opposite direction and turned the handle, opening the door just a couple of inches. Bracingly cold air smacked into him and he was met with silence. Sam hadn’t returned yet. Dean walked out of the steamy bathroom and went straight for his bag, pulling out a spare pair of boxers, the pajama pants Lisa had given him, and a gray cotton t-shirt. The clothes clung to his still damp skin as he threw them on. Looking around the room, he rapidly began to clean up. Piling his discarded clothing and Sam’s towel next to the bathroom, dumping the empty beer bottles in the trash, and flicking off the bathroom light. Grey-ish morning light weakly crept into the room from underneath the heavy curtains giving him just enough light to make his way towards the beds. He looked between the two beds for a moment and, trying to not give the decision too much thought, he pulled the covers back on the rumpled bed and climbed in.

Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat as he drifted off to sleep. The comforting, familiar smell of Sam lingering all around him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of part one, ending right before the beginning of "Caged Heat".

Dean realized he was staring at Sam. He had passed out - hard - the moment his head hit the pillow but at some point the post-sex, alcohol-induced dreamless sleep had faded into replaying the events of the night before in an incessant, obsessive loop. Revisiting every word said, every brush of lips, every caress, every shared look, every sigh and moan and curse in vivid detail. Sometimes with the stark clarity of memory and other times with the fanciful malleability of dreaming, exploring how - in both the blissfully positive to the traumatically negative - things might have been different if…

At some point he realized the dreaming had ended and his mind had just continued on with its ruminating right through into consciousness without really informing him of the shift. His eyes had fluttered open and he found himself simply watching his brother sit at the small table, drinking coffee and researching on the laptop.

If things were not as they were, if things were different, he’d….

Dean closed his eyes. He felt like shit. In more ways than he could even begin to count and becoming aware that he was conscious only served to make it worse. He realized the only resounding thought going through his head was that he had to fix this. They had to get Sam’s soul back.

Sighing, he flipped back the covers and pulled himself up into a sitting position. Sam turned and glanced at him.  
“Morning. Food and coffee are on the on the counter.” He nodded his head in the food’s direction before turning back to the computer.  
“Mhm.” Dean grumbled as he shuffled across the room, snatched up the to-go box and paper coffee cup, and made his way to the chair opposite to Sam at the table. Dean took a long sip at the bitter coffee as he flipped the lid of the styrofoam box. Cold eggs, pancakes, and bacon. His stomach gave an unhappy gurgle. He picked up a plastic fork and started picking at the food with feigned interest. He could see Sam staring at him over the edge of the laptop and tried to ignore him, ripping open a packet of black pepper and tossing it over the soggy eggs he had no intention of eating then added a packet of ketchup for good measure.  
“Dean. Listen.” Sam started. Dean threw down his fork, sighing gruffly as he sat back in his chair. Soul or no soul, there was no way Sam would let him suffer his guilt in peace.  
“What, Sam?” Dean leveled his gaze at his brother.  
“Look, nothing's changed.” Sam said slowly.  
“Then why are we still talking about this? You’re right. Nothing has changed. The plan stays the same. We do what we have to do to get your soul back. End of story.” Dean gritted his teeth.  
“Right. Okay. Good.” Sam paused for a moment and, seemingly content with that answer, moved his attention back to the computer screen. Matter settled. Dean rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and exhaled sharply. He picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite despite his stomach’s vehement protests.  
“So...finding anything? Crowley’s errand boy said possible rougarou, right?” Dean asked as he chewed, changing the subject.  
“Looks like. Coroner’s report says there wasn't much left. Just bits and pieces and a lot of blood. Two bodies in a 24 hour span. Last one was found morning before last. Looks like the police are assuming the identities of the victims for the moment since...well...there's not much left to identify them by but where they were found.” Sam rattled off. Dean groaned and sipped at his coffee again.  
“Yeesh. So who are we looking at?”  
“Well...First victim - Stacey Parker - young woman, lived alone, found at her apartment by a maintenance guy. The second was Roger Williams - the manager of a local fast food joint. Only person they have in common is Todd Parker, Stacey’s uncle. Turns out, about a week ago he up and quit his job. At the fast food joint. No one’s seen him since.” Sam snapped the laptop shut. Dean marveled for a brief moment that somehow life was continuing on as it always had. The thought made his stomach feel painfully empty.  
“Well...sounds like we need to have a little chat with Todd then.” Dean said, giving up on his breakfast all together.  
“Uh, yeah.” Sam stood up and began pulling on his coat. “Let's go.” Dean just looked him blankly before shaking his head and standing up.  
“Mind if I actually get dressed first, ya freakin’ robot?” Dean muttered as he picked up his clothes and made his way into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So going back and reading this story as a whole, I'm realizing that it's super rough and clunky and awkwardly written. Really sorry about that =\
> 
> I'm going to go through and fix it up, hopefully making it a bit more enjoyable and easier to read. Once I'm done I'll start in on part two!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated!!


End file.
